


Of Princes And Paupers

by agentsimmons



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (Bruce is literally being held like an animal so fair warning for that), (I guess since it's a fairytale au lol), (take Howard/Steve as you wish), Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Ambiguous Relationships, Bruce's Sad Backstory, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Style, Happy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Magic, Minor Violence, Non-Sexual Slavery, Science Boyfriends, Science Bros, is still kind of a thing in this, romantic sap Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-14 14:43:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4568379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentsimmons/pseuds/agentsimmons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce/Tony AU loosely inspired by The Prince and the Pauper. Also includes Clint/Natasha.</p><p>When Prince Anthony is captured by members of the Ten Ring Circus, hired by someone at the palace to kill him before his coronation, a circus performer named Clint comes to his rescue. The prince comes up with the crazy plan to switch places with Clint for a time, by way of a shape shifting spell, so Clint can find out who wants him dead. Then Prince Anthony meets the circus's biggest attraction The Incredible Hulk. And Clint meets the prince's betrothed. Fairytale sap ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Filled to the brim with butchering and reworking of canon stuff to fit the fairytale setting and saccharine concepts like love at first site and falling in love after like three days. Takes place in a world similar to say FTL on Once Upon A Time. That is, there's magic of varying kinds (and various magical races alongside humans), some more modern inspired politics/leanings/etc., and some understanding of mechanics (maybe like crude mechanics a la the stuff Belle's father makes on Beauty and the Beast?), but no electricity or anything of that nature. Also ages are ambiguous much like in FTL on OUAT so however old you imagine them to be I guess, but they're at least all adults and not like Disney-esque 16 year olds or anything. Basically, suspend your belief and if you like fluffy, straight-lipped discussion of true love then proceed. (Also, some things are left ambiguous intentionally for the reader to deduce how it went down.)
> 
> TW for violence against Bruce. He was sold and is held in a cage and he's not treated particularly well.

I

"Please at least try to see reason, your majesty." The ageless palace steward spoke in his usual self-righteous tone as Prince Anthony ignored him in favor of is gadgets and gizmos. If he could just get this one gear on his latest invention – a mechanized manservant that could fetch items and put them away upon wind up – to turn correctly… "Your father worked long and hard for this alliance between your kingdom and King Nicholas'. You cannot ignore your commitment to the Princess of Sheldonia. You must not risk King Nicholas' fury."

Tony, as he preferred to be addressed by the few friends he had (and even they were forced to address him as Prince Tony in public), sighed and threw down his tool. "I never asked to be betrothed to King Nicholas' darling daughter. I have no commitments."

"Do you really believe that?" The steward, Steven by name, eyed him skeptically. "You are a prince of the Stark House, the sole heir. Your coronation is in little more than a fortnight. It is your duty to protect your people and uphold treaties that would ensure trade and peace. You also have a duty to marry before your next birthday. It is royal law."

Tony shrugged. "Then in a fortnight, when I'm king, I'll change it."

Tony could see the roll of eyes that the longtime royal steward attempted to keep at bay for sake of duty. "And what of parliament when they ignore such a proposed mandate, as you know they will?"

Tony had no duty, beyond the superfluous ones Steven had just listed, and so rolled his eyes at that. "If there's one thing my father taught me it is that to be king is to be king. At the end of the day I control parliament and will do as I please."

"And make enemies in the process no doubt. Do you wish to have your family house uprooted? Would you risk an attempt on your life before you have any heir to succeed you? The throne would go to Lord Stane. Is that your wish?"

"I would abdicate if I had that wish," Tony replied, a scoffing tone in his voice. "No, I would see it go to Lady Virginia and her only."

Steven shook his head at that, but made no comment as to such a flippant attitude toward the throne. "Then you must concede to this marriage, sire or risk the consequence." Tony sighed again and moved away from his inventions to the open window. If he had the ability to create an invention that could give him flight, he was certain he would fly as far away as possible with no thought given to who or what came to take the throne in his absence. "Prince Anthony, I understand your hesitation to marry. It was the same with your father-"

Tony snorted. "No, not quite. I've tried his methods, but can't quite see the point. What difference is one lover or a thousand if none of them mean anything?"

"You speak as though your father never had someone he loved above every other."

Tony raised an eyebrow turning slightly to look at his steward. "Did he?"

"Yes," the other man answered to the point. His tone was full of conviction, as it almost always was, but it did little to convince Tony of that truth.

Then again, nothing could really convince him that he'd ever find someone worth spending his entire life with either. It didn't seem destined to work that way for him. Perhaps it was a curse upon the Stark House. There had been Lady Virginia for a time. It wasn't love, but it was deep fondness and respect which would probably be as close to love as he might ever get. He would happily marry her if she was his betrothed, but she was not.

He sighed in resignation. The Princess of Sheldonia was one of the most beautiful women in all the lands. She was strong willed and would make for a good queen. If there was no hope of him ever finding love, then he might as well marry her than no one at all and be done with it.

"When is she to arrive?" He finally asked, looking again out the window.

"If her travels have gone well, we can expect her by sunset tomorrow, your majesty."

Tony nodded. "Very well. Prepare the coach."

"Your majesty?"

"The traveling circus is in town and I mean to go," he explained. He turned just in time to see the look of disapproval on Steven's face and guess the words of wisdom he kept to himself. The Steward bowed and then left without any argument, not that it would be one he would win even if he had tried.

Tony was in need of a distraction away from the palace walls.

**~ & ~**

Clint gathered his arrows and returned them to his quiver. His face was impassive as he completed the chore, but his thoughts were far from it. Another day of performing for the 10 Ring Circus, the biggest circus in all the lands, and for what? The ability to travel and have a mostly secure roof over his head all for the price of a doing a few ridiculous tricks in front of a mostly inebriated crowd as his bosses scoped out which targets were best to rob while they were distracted?

He shook his head. It wasn't a price he liked. The performing wasn't so bad. He enjoyed it enough. He was good enough with a bow to be a decorated soldier. But thievery was never something he was fond of. Sure, it kept his bosses in business and kept him paid so there was that. But too many of the people they stole from needed that money. It wasn't a rob the rich scenario – although they certainly went after the richest patrons whenever the chance presented itself – and too many of those they stole from were left in ruin by time they moved on to the next town.

Honestly, it was the only reason he stayed. He had begun saving his share of the money they got when stealing from rich patrons and once he had enough, he carefully returned coins to the poorer patrons they stole from before they left town if he had the means. He couldn't do much and it was dangerous work, but it was a way to ease his conscience and help those who would have nobody looking out for them if he wasn't with the Circus. Well, there was one other member of their crooked party who would certainly do his part to help their victims, but he didn't have the means to do so.

He shook thoughts of his unfortunate friend from his mind as he slung his quiver over his shoulder and left the ring where he had performed that night. As he passed through the tent and toward the wagon homes and tents where the members of the circus resided, he suddenly saw something in the shadows to his left. His eyes were keen in any setting, day or night, and would also come in handy if he were a noble warrior. At the moment he was aware of some sort of struggle and he immediately readied his bow.

He crept closer, prepared for a fight, when he nearly dropped his bow in surprise. "What the hell are you doing?" Clint stared in disbelief at where three of their men, underlings like himself, had a man bound and gagged. A quick look over and he recognized him as the Prince of the kingdom, his having sat in the box reserved for nobility. They certainly had no qualms about stealing from nobility – and he got his largest portion of coins to give back from such pillages. But they never held them prisoner.

"We have been offered a reward for his death," one of the men replied easily before striking the prince as he struggled in response to those words.

"Who offers you this reward and does the Ringmaster know? There's no way he could be okay with this. It would jeopardize our entire operation." Clint stuck with the facts he knew until there was no other option.

"What we've been offered is more than the Ringmaster could ever hope to collect with his petty operation. We could live as lords," said another, sneering as he did. So the Ringmaster was not aware then. That was a mark in Clint's favor even if he didn't particularly care for the leader of their group.

"Or you could have your lives shortened as the fall guys for whoever wants him dead," Clint said, pointing at the prince. He wasn't stupid. He knew how these kinds of things worked. He'd been hired a few times as an assassin before his conscience caught up with him. Often the one who did the hiring was also looking for a fool greedy enough to do the job and dumb enough to get caught and sentenced to death without any hope of proving who had hired him in the first place.

"Which is why we won't kill him until we've reached the next kingdom. We've already been given our payment from the fool. He only waits for proof of the deed. He won't get it until we're good and gone."

 _Shit._ It was a good plan. He had to think on his toes now.

"Alright, seems reasonable." He kept his face schooled as he often did. "I'd still be a little worried about what'll happen if the Ringmaster finds out though. There'll likely be a reward for the prince's return if you don't kill him right away. The Ringmaster's a smart man. He'll suspect it was one of us that did it and he'll turn you over like that." Clint snapped to emphasize his point. "He'll be more than happy to get a reward that also keeps our shady little operation in the clear to keep doing business as usual."

One of the men paled and Clint smirked inwardly. Doubt in the ranks was all he needed to turn the situation on its head. The moment they began arguing amongst themselves, as thieves and murderers are apt to do thanks to trust issues, Clint jumped at his chance. Before any of them had an opportunity to flee, his skills as a master archer, knifeman and all-around assassin had them lying unconscious and secured by their hands and feet to one another.

When he was done, the prince was staring at him with wide eyes and shrinking away like he didn't know if he could trust him anymore than he could have trusted the others. "Relax," Clint clipped. "I wouldn’t have wasted my energy making enemies when I could have just let them buy my silence with a share of the reward. Making enemies out of colleagues in this business is a sure way to die. I'm smarter than that." With that he pulled out the gag, but made no move to untie him yet.

The prince sputtered a little once the fabric was removed. "So you're not gonna kill me or try to get the reward you mentioned your Ringmaster would want?" The prince gave him a skeptical glance.

"Also a sure way to die. I might travel with this lot, but I'm not in the habit of risking my hide to assassinate crown princes when a little thievery is good enough to live on. Key word being _live_."

"So you're an honest thief then?" He still seemed suspicious.

Clint snorted. "Yeah, I probably wouldn't believe me either in your situation. But it is what it is. In case you're wondering, you were also already robbed blind while you watched our little show. So when I let you go, which I'm planning on it, you'll already have more than enough cause to have us all thrown in the stocks."

The prince was silent for a moment and furrowed his brow. "Then why?"

Clint shrugged. "Honest thief. I do what I do to survive, something I'm sure you have no concept of up in your plush palace. Not that being killed over politics isn't universal, obviously. Sure, I could leave. Go straight. Whatever. But then who would be there to save the sorry fools like you, hmm?"

"Regular old Robin Hood then?"

"I guess you could call it that. I take what I can from the rich guys like you to give back to the poor people my colleagues swindle. But, hey. Throw us in the stocks and that problem's solved." He shrugged again, feigning indifference. He didn't really want to be thrown in the stocks, but maybe he could negotiate freedom since he'd saved the prince.

There was silence again and he moved to make good on his promise to untie him. "And what if," the prince started tentatively and Clint stilled his movements. "What if I decided not to oust your operation? What would you do in that situation?"

That wasn't a question Clint had been expecting. "Well, I'd have to get those three goons out of my hair for one. So I'd inform the Ringmaster that they'd had plans to hold you for ransom when I overtook them and I would expect you to be my witness to that. He'd let you go and deal with them somehow so long as you weren't suspicious of the robbery, which you could always feign ignorance and pin it on those three. Like I told them, he has no reason to want to get involved in the assassination of princes any more than I do. Now here's my question. Why would you take that option?"

The prince didn't answer right away and when he did it was with a sigh. "Because somebody wants me dead and since my coronation is in a fortnight, I have a pretty good feeling I know who. So I have a proposition of my own. But I'd rather not discuss it here."

Clint moved back around to look at him clearly. A proposition? Always dangerous. "Alright, I'm willing to listen on one condition. If I think it's of no merit to me and decline, I want your word on two things."

"And what's that?" Suspicion returned to the prince's eyes.

"You can do whatever the hell you want with the rest of my group. But in exchange for your life, I ask for freedom to go for myself and for my friend."

"Your friend?" His eyebrows shot upward.

"On what's left of my honor, he has never stolen a single coin or shared in any of those that were. He's innocent where I'm not." Clint shrugged.

He saw the testing look in the prince's eyes. "And if I could only promise freedom for one of you?"

Ah, so that kind of test. He could lie. He could say what he knew the prince wanted to hear. Would he give up his own freedom for his only friend? Would he at the very least lie and say he would in order to have the prince agree to his terms. If he were a liar or a better friend he'd probably answer differently.

"I'd take it for myself," he answered honestly. "The guy can handle himself when he needs to. But I'm fairly confident I could break him out of your stocks before you even knew I was there," he added cheekily. "And I would."

To his surprise a bright smile spread across the prince's face. "Then it's a deal. I'd shake on it if my hands weren't still tied. Incidentally, what's your name?"

"Clint," he answered directly.

"Okay. And I'm Crown Prince Anthony Edward Howard Steven Marion Abraham so on and so forth of the Stark House. But friends call me Tony."

"Princes have friends?" Clint dared to push the limits. The guy seemed more inclined to honesty and sarcasm. He was right as the prince laughed in response.

"Well, we do what we can."

**~ & ~**

"This is crazy," Clint hissed as they walked through the night toward the edge of the kingdom.

The archer was right. It was crazy. Tony knew it was a risky play, but he was constantly berated by Steven and his other officials and caretakers and the few friends he had that he was nothing if not one to act on impulse. His plans and inventions both were of the ilk that could just as easily lead to disaster as they could success and often it was a matter of luck – which he thankfully seemed to have in spades. Even his knight's training had been littered with exasperation from those over him who didn't approve of his tactlessness in battle.

But all of that was nothing in comparison to this plan. He was surprised the clever circus performer had even agreed to it at all. After all, seeking out the kingdom's wizard for a shape shifting spell that could allow them to switch places was a new sort of madness.

"You can still turn back. Deal's still good for you and your friend. And no endangerment on your part if another attempt is made." It only seemed fair to give him another chance if he was having second thoughts.

"Yeah, well, the danger is kind of why I agreed to this in the first place."

Tony suddenly realized maybe he wasn't the only one who acted on instinct and impulse. He briefly wondered if it was easier to do so as a common man than as a royal.

"What happened to not looking for sure ways to die?" Tony asked.

"Simple. I don't plan on dying. With my skills it'll be less dangerous than if you just went back yourself. And payment or no payment from you when I succeed it certainly doesn't hurt to have the trust of a king. Like I said, I do what I do to survive. I'm not afraid of danger, but the reward has to merit the risk."

Tony paused and turned to look back at the sandy-haired man. "It just occurred to me this could all be an elaborate trap and I still have no real reason to trust you. This seems a little too convenient."

"Really?" Clint was incredulous. "You came up with the plan for a shape shifting spell, not me. If anyone's putting you in danger now, it's you. I mean anything can go wrong with a spell like that. So _you_ can still turn back and take your chances." He held up his hands in a sign of surrender. "I won't stop you. You can tie me up if you want. I can pretty much escape anything, but you'll have time to get away before I do. Need any more proof I can be trusted?"

Tony bit his lip, considering his point. "This friend of yours…" He began and the archer's eyebrows shot up and a guarded expression settled onto his face.

Tony knew immediately that Clint would probably hedge, but something about this mysterious man had intrigued him since Clint first mentioned his never having stolen or taken any of the profit. There were only a few possible reasons he could think of for that logically. Either the circus didn't know about him and he would be responsible for his well-being. Or Clint provided for him as a lover or spouse and he would have to provide for him as well – and maybe in multiple ways.

"What about him?" Clint asked tentatively.

"Look, if there's anything I need to know in order to be you then it's best to tell me now. I don't exactly want to be accosted by somebody who-"

"Not like that," Clint said before he could finish. "Trust me. He's a friend and that opportunity would not even come up."

Tony furrowed his brow at that. "Okay. But if it's a kid that I need to take care of, then yeah I'll go take my chances with Lord Stane or whoever else has it out for me."

Clint shook his head. "Not that either. He's another performer and, let's just say, you probably won't even get a chance to meet him since I expect you to keep to my tent when you're not performing or else about town where nobody can question you too much."

"What is it you've come to me for?" A voice, smooth as silk interrupted their conversation and Tony turned to see the kingdom's wizard standing in the shadows of a nearby lamppost. The man, who would by all accounts be the royal sorcerer if his father King Howard had not been against the idea of having a sorcerer in the palace (he had not been fond of magic for unknown reasons), recognized him immediately. "Ah, your majesty," he said bowing slightly, his long raven locks falling into his eyes briefly. "This is an unexpected surprise."

"I'll bet," Tony said. He didn't exactly trust the sorcerer Loki much more than his father had, as the man was a shape shifter and, Tony suspected, all too glad to use his tricks to conjure up mischief as much as magic. "I need a shape shifting spell."

Loki looked around to see if they were being watched and then nodded for them to follow the rest of the way to his home. "I am the very best in all the known lands at such spells," he said conversationally until they arrived. He quickly ushered them in and shut the door just as quickly. "But I have not heard of any princes seeking such a spell unless matters are dire," he said, turning to look at them.

"Matters are dire," Tony replied pointedly.

"Then how may I serve my future king?" Loki asked him, moving to another part of the room as he did.

"I need a spell, if you have one, that would allow this man and I to briefly change places by donning the other's appearance."

Loki hummed thoughtfully. His hands had been skimming some books on a shelf, but they paused. "That is a spell I know, yes, but it would do little good if matters are truly dire."

"Why not?" Clint asked for the both of them.

Loki turned and gave the archer a piercing gaze. "Because donning another's appearance will do nothing to fool a clever person. It takes years to master the true art of deception in that way, a way that no spell can replicate." He suddenly shifted to look like Tony without so much as having blinked. He then spoke in a way that clearly gave away that it was still him. "I could look like his highness, yes. But if I did not speak like him or act like him, then I would only fool a fool. But…" He conjured a spell over himself and suddenly-

Tony blinked several times. Loki still looked like Tony, but Tony had the strangest feeling that he was still looking at himself. On a subconscious level he knew that he wasn't, but it was like a mirror and his mind felt hazy. He turned to see Clint looking back and forth between him and Loki in confusion. Suddenly Loki conjured another spell and whatever enchantment that had come over the room was gone again. Tony was looking at just Loki and Clint muttered something under his breath.

"As you see," Loki began to explain, "it is the mind you must fool. You could even look like yourself and those who see you would never know the difference. The illusion is in their minds and you control it."

"Mind control." Clint looked as dubious as Tony knew he was.

Loki smiled as if impressed by the archer's cleverness. "It is a secret of many great spells."

"So, let me get this straight." Tony held up an impatient hand. He would need to return to the palace soon or else Steven would assume he was gallivanting amongst the taverns and brothels again and send the Captain of the Guard, James, to come find him. "You're saying that with a simple spell we can control what others see and think of us so that we not only look like one another in their eyes, but they'll truly have no reason to think that we aren't who we say we are?"

"More or less, yes," Loki answered.

"And you'll just give us that powerful of a spell with no questions asked?" Clint eyed the sorcerer suspiciously.

"Well, he is my ruler," Loki began hesitantly. "And he could demand it without payment."

"I would pay for it." Tony flapped his hand at him. "You know I'm good for it. But he's got a point. This is a pretty serious sounding spell. Is there a risk that goes along with it? Some kind of catch?"

Loki gave a soft sort of snort. "Ah, a catch. There are always provisos with magic, but especially in the realm of shape shifting. The magic will not work on other shape shifters. If you were to try the spell now, I would still see you as you are for my mind has become impervious to such tricks. I would be aware of the magic and yet see through it. I cannot guarantee you that you will not be discovered in such a way.

There are also other rules. If you do not return to your normal form by way of the counter spell within the time of a full moon cycle, the change will be permanent. Furthermore, as you wish to take the place of a specific person there is a matter of consent. In most cases, this type of spell is used in scenarios where one of the two is no longer living or has been forced to agree beyond their wills." He paused and glanced at them cautiously before continuing. "But as you both plan on staying alive I would assume, it may make things a bit tricky. Should only one of you invoke the counter spell, it will affect you both."

"Great," Clint clipped. "So that takes the trust level from an eight to a ten."

"I trust you," Tony offered quickly. He didn't have much choice in the matter and he wasn't certain who he could trust back at the palace either. But he also genuinely felt like he could trust him. It might not make sense, but there _was_ something honest about him.

"Well, that's good. But as a fair warning, earlier I was willing to give up my friend's freedom for my own so do with that what you will."

"Maybe that's why I trust you," Tony elaborated. "I get the feeling you wouldn't invoke it unless you absolutely felt it necessary. In that case, I wouldn't blame you since I'd do the same. Incidentally," he looked back at Loki, "could the original spell be invoked again in that situation or-"

"I was coming to that," Loki cut over him. "Not unless you are both together to do so, no. The person you switch with must be bodily present at the time of this particular shift."

"Well, that complicates matters a little," Tony said with a shrug. "But I'd say it's still worth a shot."

**~ & ~**

Clint woke up and looked around the unfamiliar room. He'd been brought back to the palace by Tony in great secrecy before they'd invoked the spell. Then, Tony had escaped into the night and back to the circus – although they'd stopped on the way there so that Clint could show him to his tent and belongings. Clint had all but collapsed into the comfortable bed that would be his for the next fortnight. They'd agreed that regardless of the outcome, granted they were both still alive and had no need for the counter spell sooner, they would invoke it again on the eve of Tony's coronation.

Being Prince Anthony was strange. He knew who he was, still had his own memories, and still could say whatever he felt like. But knowing that nobody would question his words as those of an imposter was a bit overwhelming.

A knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts. This would be his first chance at testing the power of the spell. "Come in," he said, trying to at least sound princely.

The door opened and a tall, thin, elderly man entered. "Your majesty has been asleep for many hours this morning. I hope all is well?" Clint looked him over, taking in his appearance, and guessed him to be a manservant.

"Ah, well, I went out last night and-"

The man raised his hand politely. "Say no more, sire. Shall I fetch you a wet cloth and warn no one to disturb you until the malady passes?"

Clint considered it. "Yes, thank you." He suddenly realized that Tony had not given him the name of his manservant. He'd told him a million other names and descriptions in their exchange of important information as they walked back to the palace, but nothing of his manservant. "Whoa," he held his head as though dizzy and the man looked at him in concern. "That's a first. That mead must have been more powerful than anything I've ever had before." He shook his head. "I- I suddenly forgot your name. How, how strange is that?"

"Strange indeed, sir." The other man looked concerned. "I have been your faithful servant, Jarvis, since your birth." Thankfully his trick worked. "Are you sure the mead was not poisoned?"

"Well, I hope not," Clint joked, hoping it eased the moment. "I'm sure I just need a little more rest. Thank you for your concern, Jarvis."

"As always, sir," the man said before turning to fetch the wet cloth.

The urge to explore the palace was hard to overcome, but Clint decided to use his excuse of a post-drunken headache to his advantage and stay put for as long as possible. Also, the bed was really comfortable. It was several more hours before he was called upon again, this time by a man he easily recognized as the steward, given Tony's description of him.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd assume you exaggerated your malady to get out of meeting with the Princess of Sheldonia," Steven said without any introduction or ceremony.

Princess? Tony had certainly not mentioned any meeting with a princess.

"Is she… here?"

The steward sighed, closing his eyes and hanging his head. "She arrived a little earlier than I guessed, but you should have already been prepared regardless, Prince Anthony. She has been gracious enough, but her good graces may not last if you do not meet with her soon."

"I'm just not ready," he said, hoping he came across as a flippant prince uninterested in the meeting. He could certainly imagine Tony reacting in such a way.

Steven opened his eyes at that. "We've been through this before. Her majesty is your betrothed. She has come to celebrate your coming coronation. Your readiness has no influence on your duties and stalling will only make trouble. Now, please, sire. As your most trusted adviser, I advise you to put away this childishness. Princess Natasha is a wonderful woman and very beautiful. You could be allied with many women who are neither of those things." He closed his eyes again and for a moment Clint thought he detected a hint of regret or even sympathy. "I understand your preference would be…" He hesitated and then shook his head. He then opened his eyes again and his face was stern as ever. "Preferences have no place in these matters. I hope to find you in the drawing room in ten minutes, your majesty," he said firmly, bowed and then excused himself.

Clint remained where he was, slightly slack jawed, for at least three of those minutes. Not only did he have to meet with a princess, but Tony's betrothed? Tony had been concerned about Clint's mysterious friend and yet hadn't felt it important to mention this?

He was suddenly reminded of why he had trust issues.

**~ & ~**

Clint had warned him to stay in his tent, but Tony had made no promises. He wasn't one to stay put. He wasn't one not to explore when the opportunity presented itself. If everyone would see him as Clint no matter his words or actions, then what harm was there in utilizing that to his advantage? It wasn't as though he would do anything truly stupid to have them hate Clint (or, well, him in this case).

Thus, he wandered through the circus grounds, looking for something to occupy his time. He had inkling to see the beasts used in the performances, to see lions and elephants up close. He even wondered if he might happen across _the_ beast – the one that intrigued him beyond any other. He had seen it twice, the night before, and then once before when the 10 Rings Circus had passed through a few years before.

The Incredible Hulk it was called. It was a large, green beast of at least eight feet in height when it stood straight. It was strong and powerful and unlike anything ever discovered before throughout all the lands. He was curious to see it up close. He was curious to understand more about the wild thing that seemed so angry. In the ring, the creature seemed like it could snap at any moment and destroy anyone who stood in its way. It was a magnificent looking monster not unlike the dragons that dwelt in, and in some cases terrorized, other lands. And yet there was also something else strange about the creature that Tony couldn't put words to. It was almost as if there was something that kept that anger in check. Perhaps the creature was mindful and aware of its power.

"Who are you?"

Tony froze. He looked around at the various cages that held some lions and a bear. There hadn't been any people nearby that he'd seen.

"What do you mean who am I?" Tony ventured as he moved forward a few feet, walking cautiously as he looked around.

"You're using a shape shifting spell or you are a shape shifter. So who are you and what do you want?"

Tony swallowed hard and then, turning hard right, he saw him. It was a man, standing in a cage, staring at him suspiciously with intense brown eyes. Tony wasn't sure what he'd been expecting when called out by the unseen stranger, but his heart catching in his throat and a flutter in his stomach as his eyes locked on the most handsome, most beautiful man he'd ever seen was definitely not it. For a moment all he could do was stand there as if in a trance, mesmerized by whoever this man was. It was only when he looked away as if frightened by something that Tony managed to come back to his senses.

He approached the man cautiously, eyes narrowing in confusion as he finally registered completely that the man wasn't just standing in a cage as perhaps a handler to a creature, but was standing alone in a large cage, lined with hay and scattered with a few odds and ends such as books. The cage was also secured with far more locks and chains than even the lions had on their cages. This man wasn't a handler. It was as if he were the creature being held.

"I wouldn't come any closer if I were you," the man warned him and took several steps away from the bars.

Tony ignored him. "I don't look like Clint to you?" He asked and the man stopped suddenly and looked at him with green eyes. That was unusual. Tony was certain they'd been brown before.

"Where is he? What have you done to him? Why are you impersonating him?" The man fired off questions with a low, almost growl. Tony was strangely more mesmerized than before and it took a moment for it to dawn on him that this must be the mysterious friend that Clint had alluded to. It made sense for a man who was kept as a prisoner in such a way wouldn't be likely to steal or be given a share of plunder.

Tony held up his hands and took a step back."He's safe. He agreed to switch places with me. I promise."

"Why should I believe you?" He challenged.

"You probably shouldn't I guess. But it's the truth. I'm the crown prince of this kingdom. Prince Anthony of the Stark House," he offered, hoping honesty was the best policy. "Call me Tony, by the way. Your friend… Clint- he saved my life last night." Tony looked around cautiously.

"We're alone," the man assured him, guessing his concern.

"Okay. So, a few of your circus colleagues were hired by someone at the palace who wants me dead. Clint saved me and then agreed to switch places with me to try and find out who was responsible."

"Why would he do that? What would he have to gain?" The other man seemed to have a clear understanding of the archer's principles.

"Easy enough. I'm soon to be king. I offered him payment and my friendship henceforth. I also offered him a way out if he refused to go along with my plan since I would have had this entire thieving lot thrown in the stocks if he said no."

"A way out?"

"His freedom." He paused, taking a chance that this was indeed Clint's friend. "And yours."

The man's eyes widened and to Tony's surprise they were definitely brown again. Was it a trick of the light or… Oh wait, he was a shape shifter. He had to be if he'd seen through him. Maybe it was his magic wearing off. He suddenly wondered what he looked like normally. He couldn't blame him for wanting to appear this attractive. He had sun kissed skin, curly dark locks, a body that looked lean in the best kind of way, and his eyes – green or brown – were absolutely…

"Mine?" Tony was broken from his thoughts by the question.

"Well, to be fair, I asked him what he'd do if I only offered freedom to one of you and he said he'd pick himself so…" Tony gave an exaggerated grimace and to his amazement the other man actually laughed. It sounded rusty, but still his stomach flipped pleasantly at the sound.

"That doesn't surprise me."

"But he also said it was because either you could escape on your own or he'd break you out. Seemed pretty confident that he could."

"He would have," the man said with a nod.

"Right, so, do you have a name? I mean, with a face like that, I definitely want to know your name." Tony gave him a genuine smile, managing to ward off the leer he'd rather have offered him, and then without giving it a second thought he moved as close to the cage as possible and passed a hand through the wide bars for the man to shake.

The man was clearly taken back by the gesture, looking at his outstretched hand and then back up at him like he was crazy. He took a few cautious steps forward as though he didn't trust himself or Tony. "It's Bruce," he said just as cautiously before finally looking at the hand again and taking it.

Tony felt his heart skip several beats at the contact and the way Bruce's eyes suddenly snapped up to meet his own told him that maybe he'd felt something too. He looked confused and Tony was aware that they were studying each other intently as if drawn to one another. Then just as quickly as it had happened, Bruce pulled away harshly and looked around in a panic.

"You… You need to go now."

"Why?" Tony asked to the point.

"They're coming and… I don't know what Clint told you about me, but-"

"Nothing really," Tony said quickly, cutting him off. "Just that you were innocent and didn't deserve the stocks. I mean, it would have been helpful information in hindsight if he'd shared with me that you're a shape shifter." Bruce shot him a frantic look. "Figured it out on my own since you saw through the spell. That's one of the rules, right?" Bruce gave a look that seemed to say 'oh' and then a weak nod. "Right. So, yeah, would have been helpful information to know somebody here could see through it. Glad it's somebody he trusts though. I mean-"

"You need to go," Bruce urged him again. " _Please._ "

Tony's stomach fell at the desperation on the man's face and in his voice. He wanted to ask why. He wanted to ask if he could even see him again or ask if he was in trouble. But all he could do was swallow hard and then give a firm nod before hurrying off. However, he hadn't left soon enough in order to get far enough away. He was close enough to hear the horrible sounds that followed.

"Please, please don't," Bruce's pleas were darkly calm and yet filled with distress that curdled Tony's blood. He forced himself to keep walking. "Give me a chance! Let me just try-"

There was the crack of a whip and Tony stopped dead in his tracks. Then without thinking of his promise to the other man, he turned quickly on his heel and back towards the cage. He ducked behind a few barrels near enough to watch and felt his heart go cold at the sight.

Bruce's hands were in chains and held by two men and there were several more men standing nearby with ropes as if prepared for something that had yet to happen. But worse of all were the two men, one that Tony knew to be the Ringmaster, whipping him from both back and front at the same time.

"Stop, stop, please," Bruce's cries became deeper, more guttural. It almost seemed primal and Tony wasn't sure what chilled him more, that or the sight of the man being beaten with some clear purpose.

Did Clint know about this? Had he known this was going to happen before he'd left his friend at the hands of these monsters? Tony couldn't take it. He couldn't watch this poor man be beaten to death. If only he had Clint's bow on him. He was on the verge of running to fetch it when suddenly all thoughts were scattered.

Bruce's skin began to turn green and his muscles began to bulge and shift and grow as he gnashed and struggled against the chains. Then as he grew larger and larger before Tony's eyes, the men with the ropes began to lasso him and pull hard to subdue him like a wild beast.

And then there was one subtle moment when Bruce's eyes met Tony's wide ones and he was sure there was a flicker of clarity there, knowing that he had seen, a look of pain and regret at his having seen. Then the beast roared and was suddenly an entire foot larger than before.

Tony had wanted to see the Incredible Hulk up close and now he had.


	2. Chapter 2

II

Clint reached the drawing room, escorted by Jarvis, and waited for his manservant to announce him. Apparently that was how things were done for royals. As he waited, he thought about how stifling that must be. If he were Tony he would maybe just take this switch as an opportunity to never come back. But then he considered all of the other perks of a posh lifestyle and decided it wasn't exactly a raw deal. It wasn't like there was always freedom to safely come and go as a commoner either.

When it was proper for him to do so, he entered the spacious, ornate room. He did so tentatively, looking around with his keen vision and studying his surroundings. Then his eyes fell on the woman, dressed in green. Her back was turned and all he saw was perfect, red waves that cascaded to just beneath her shoulders, partially pinned back by a jeweled barrette. He felt his heartbeat quicken. Then she turned around and his heart stopped.

Clint had long given up trying to convince himself that he hadn't become more and more of a knave since his brother's death, but he'd never been one to believe in love at first sight. That was pushing it even for him. He'd slept with as many pretty women, though only one at a time, as were willing over the years. He had no wishes to provide for a lover and family, especially not with his line of work. It would be ridiculous to leave them behind for long intervals, never knowing when he might see them again or if they were even safe. It would be no better than being a seaman or soldier, but at least those jobs paid a steady income that could be sent back and were noble enough to hopefully inspire pride in his family while he was away.

Perhaps what he suddenly felt wasn't love at first sight either, but he was acutely aware that he was gaping at her in wide-eyed wonder so it had to be _something_. He barely had a moment to warn himself that it couldn't be something and that she was both a princess and betrothed to Prince Anthony before he realized she was slowly moving to greet him formally, giving a low curtsy once she stood in front of him. Unsure if he was doing the right thing, he bowed slightly, and then seeing the outstretched, gloved hand she proffered kissed it lightly.

When they were left alone, a silent encouragement for them to speak more openly and, Clint guessed, intimately, she was the first to speak. "I hope you're not under the impression that you're the only one against this arrangement." Her voice was cool and her green eyes, eyes that made her satin dress look dull in contrast, even cooler.

Clint stuttered mentally at that before putting together the clues from his time as Tony thus far. The steward had made it seem as though Tony had been disinclined to marry the princess. As he tried not to gape at said princess, he suddenly had to wonder if Tony was crazy. Then he realized the man was a crown prince who had traded places with a circus performer on a whim and decided it was probably safe to say he was, in fact, a little crazy. It was only a moment and afterthought later that he also recalled Steven's aborted attempt to discuss Tony's preferences and he briefly thought, _maybe not crazy rather uninterested._

"You're quieter than I remember." Natasha's next words broke through his thoughts and he refocused his attention on her. Her eyes were calm, but Clint could see calculating suspicion.

"Am I?" He baited.

She tilted her head. "Yes. The Anthony I've come to know would have gotten defensive at the mere suggestion and then grumbled away to work on some trivial invention."

Clint balked a little on behalf of Tony. The man had explained to him to at least appear to be working on his inventions as it was a major hobby of his and Clint felt it was a little untoward of the princess to dismiss that hobby as trivial.

"Maybe that's because you've never gotten to know me as Tony," he offered.

"Does that make a difference?" She lifted an eyebrow.

Clint smiled slightly. "I'm starting to think so."

****~ & ~** **

As he fired arrows and performed various stunts in the ring, Tony was abundantly grateful that he had been expected to train as a knight and learn the skills any prince or king must know should he need to lead his troops into battle. He was even more grateful that nobody suspected he wasn't Clint because he had seen Clint's skills in the ring the night before and there simply was no comparison. Clint would be the kind of person you'd want protecting your kingdom he was that good. Tony momentarily wondered if he should offer him such a position if everything worked in his favor.

Tony was torn from his thoughts at the angry roar in a ring somewhere behind him. He fired his arrows with more angry accuracy than before as he tried desperately to tune it out. But he couldn't. He did an aerial flip, shooting an arrow as he did, and when he landed the Hulk was in his line of sight. He wavered.

At the moment everyone still saw Clint taking a pause in his performance, but he was Tony. And all Tony could see was a man, imprisoned and tortured and yet- There was that look, the one Tony hadn't understood. Hulk _was_ a mindful beast after all. There _was_ someone holding back that rage. And closer now he could see it was more than anger. There was fear and pain as well. Bruce's entrancing face came into his mind's eye for a moment and Tony bristled.

His indignation tore him from his reverie and he turned quickly to fire more arrows at targets if only not to massacre the entire lot of people keeping Bruce or the Hulk in this manner. He focused his attention on his role as Clint for the rest of the show, telling himself that he could do more good for the shape shifter as Tony when it was all over. Because he _would_ do something.

****~ & ~** **

"You've never once asked me about my interests before now," Natasha said as they walked through the palace garden under the pale moonlight.

Clint considered that for a moment. Tony didn't seem particularly antisocial. He had also learned the hard way that Tony had quite the reputation. For a man who had been worried about being accosted by a random man, he sure had a slew of lovers around every corner of the palace it seemed. Of course, they were all female as far as he'd encountered thus far so maybe he'd been wrong to think Tony wasn't interested in Natasha for that reason. Maybe that was why he was worried about being accosted by a man. Still, his instincts told him that wasn't the full story. He only knew that he was crazy to ignore Natasha entirely, whatever the reason, and a bit of an ass who should have warned him of random lovers that might try to accost _him._

"I'm sorry," he finally said. It was all he knew to say.

That gave her pause. "Prince Anthony would never apologize."

He stopped, feeling suspicion in his stomach. "You seem to have a lot of ideas about me."

"You seem to forget that they're merely the ideas you have about yourself." Clint furrowed his brow and she raised hers. "You have told me in the past you don't apologize."

"Oh." He pursed his lips. Sure, he was beginning to understand that Tony was a bit of an ass, but there seemed a good deal of genuine goodness in him. The man had offered him and a stranger freedom, for one. "That doesn't mean it was true."

She smiled then and momentarily Clint felt disarmed, naked in a way that he wasn't used to. It was like she suddenly had the upper hand and he had never been one to let others get the upper hand.

"I never said I believed it."

"What does that mean?"

"You asked what I like to do and that's one of them," she answered in maddening vagueness.

"Ah, so you enjoy saying one thing and then contradicting it. I believe the word for that is liar." It would figure, he thought. He had come to despise lying and liars. Falling for a betrothed princess who was a liar would just be the seal on how bad of an idea it was to fall in the first place.

She gave an unladylike snort that he found charming in spite of how unexpected it had been. "It's a little like lying I suppose. But it's preferable to dying." He immediately saw the way her eyes widened as though she'd let something slip and then hedged. "But I meant studying people, figuring them out. I like looking for the things they don't think anyone else can see and-"

"Using it to your advantage?" Clint was no stranger to that kind of thing. Maybe it _was_ a little like lying.

She shrugged. "Usually. When you get used to doing it, it becomes somewhat of a habit. So I try to make the most of it. I try to enjoy it for what it's worth. I don't need to study everyone, study complete strangers. But I do."

"And so you've made a study of me, for one reason or another?" He could only imagine a future spouse you had no choice in being promised to would be someone you studied out of necessity, not for fun.

She tilted her head as if considering. "Yes."

"So what is it you see that you think I don't know you see?"

Her lips were quirked at the corners. "Who do I think Crown Prince Anthony of the Stark House really is?" He nodded. "I think he's a man who has everything… And yet he has nothing at all."

"That could apply to a lot of people," Clint said in slight disregard.

"True. But it's particularly relevant in this case. The way I see it, Prince Anthony is a bit like glass. Everything is open and clear and on display, even the smudges of dirt. He thinks if nothing is private then nobody will see the things that really are. And he doesn't seem to realize glass shatters. Prince Anthony is brash. Prince Anthony is a philanderer. Prince Anthony has no desire to rule. Prince Anthony has no desire to settle down and marry. Prince Anthony doesn't apologize."

Clint was beginning to feel disconcerted. He wasn't sure if it was hearing the other man's flaws and vulnerabilities splayed out before him under the guise that he was the other man or the way she referred to Prince Anthony as if she weren't speaking to him (or the man who appeared to be him).

"But…" She paused and then continued. "Tony is a bit like iron. He's strong and fierce and capable of building a formidable kingdom. Yet he's also malleable in a way that requires a vulnerability that doesn't betray that strength rather makes it stronger. Tony is a dreamer. Tony is an inventor. Tony is a lover. Tony desires to rule, but in his own way regardless of what small-minded people might think. Tony has a desire to settle down and marry, but I think it has to be someone he'll lose his heart, mind… probably even his senses to. Tony apologizes when he needs to, but he's unapologetic."

They walked in silence for a few moments. Clint considered everything she'd said. He hadn't known the man long, but he could see Tony being this way. He could see it in the way he'd responded better to his honesty. He could see it in his crazy scheme that could go wrong at any moment. And he could also, from the briefest of moments spent behind palace walls, maybe understand why it was easier to be Prince Anthony. Or maybe it wasn't easier, rather he felt resigned to the princely mask his upbringing had no doubt insisted upon and didn't know how to balance the two. Clint could easily see how it might be like a walk along a high wire.

"So then the way I see it, that would make me a man who could have everything, but chooses nothing," he said with a good deal of conviction.

She offered him a genuine smile. "Perhaps." She then looked back toward the castle. "This has been enjoyable. Thank you for your company."

He smiled and bowed toward her, understanding she meant to walk back to the palace alone. "Then, as Tony I'll admit it was my sincere pleasure."

She smiled, nodded and then turned to leave. However, she only made it a short way before halting and turning back to look at him over her shoulder. "And what would you admit as yourself?"

Clint tensed up. Her eyes were shining with the light of understanding and she didn't give him a chance to answer before leaving again as casually as though nothing had just happened. She hadn't had to say it, but Clint was certain. She knew.

****~ & ~** **

Tony breathed a sigh of relief.

Once he'd been sure the coast was clear, everyone asleep or off into town not likely to return until morning, he had ventured to Bruce's cage to see if he was okay. To his amazement, he had found him in a strange, unconscious state: not quite the large, green beast he had been, but not quite a regular human being either. It had been breathtaking and bizarre watching his body slowly shift back down until he was once again the man he'd met earlier (not even a trace of the lashes from the whips that should have been there, he noted). He was still beautiful, maybe more so than before – and not only because he was decidedly naked – and yet also very clearly in pain.

But then there had been a frightening moment where he'd stilled, appearing lifeless, right as he seemed to be entirely Bruce again and Tony had wondered if the unnatural transformation had been too much on him. Panic had overwhelmed his senses and he had cursed the possibility that he had finally found someone that made him yearn in a way he'd only dreamed of only to lose him before finding out if it was more than a trick of his imagination.

So when Bruce then began to stir, the sigh of relief had been inevitable.

"Which is it?" Tony asked as Bruce moved to sit up, eyes blinking owlishly in the dark – although Tony had brought a lantern with him for some light.

"What?" Bruce opened his eyes wide, startled, and turned to look at him.

"You know. The shape shifting. Are you a normal guy who gets big and green or are you a big and green guy who changes to look normal?"

He watched as Bruce stumbled around a bit looking for and finding a new pair of clothes. He put them on slowly. Tony attempted to look away, but it was a lost cause. Bruce didn't seem to care and Tony briefly pondered what that might mean.

"You know, I'm not even sure anymore," Bruce said, turning toward him again and coming near to the bars and into the light of Tony's lantern. He saw the rueful smile on his face as he sat down on the floor of his cage once more.

"That's not an answer," Tony balked slightly at the noncommittal response. He'd spent enough years avoiding truths in favor of half-truths to know when someone was attempting to do the same.

Bruce sighed. "As far as I know I'm a man. I was born one and I didn't always have this…"

"Ability?"

"I was going to say nightmare," he corrected and Tony felt a little sorry for him. Tony wasn't sure he would call the beast itself a nightmare, but it was the cause for Bruce being kept like an animal and beaten so that part was certainly a nightmare.

"Well, I'm definitely interested in hearing the story if you feel up to it," he offered genuinely.

Tony saw the flicker of emotions that passed over Bruce's face. First surprise, then hope, followed by uncertainty.

"I'm… I don't know if I can trust you," he finally responded. There was clear doubt in his voice that accentuated his statement.

The emotions, the fear, Tony understood. The man was being held in a cage. _A cage!_ He bristled again as he looked at the strangely calm man who was forced to sleep on hay behind bars with only so many things to his belonging. He had always felt a little like a prisoner as a prince, but that was nothing to this.

"I guess that makes sense," he finally replied. "I'm currently pretending to be someone I'm not in front of everyone else." _Actually, I think I've been doing that my whole life_ , he didn't add. "So I could be a liar. Or maybe just crazy. But Clint seems to trust me," he tried a different angle.

He got a small smile from him on that. "Yes, well, I don't always rely on Clint's judgment."

"Are you two…?" He didn't finish the question outright. Clint had already said no, but given the sudden shift of his curiosity he wanted to be sure. The other man might have been giving a response that he felt would keep Bruce safe. Or there was always the possibility that Bruce wasn't inclined to give the same response on his own side.

Bruce raised an eyebrow at the question, as if a little incredulous. "No." He shook his head. "He's a friend. My only one, but my feelings for him aren't like that. And it's not like you can really have a lover when…" His sentence trailed for a moment. He was defeated. "I'm a prisoner. Prisoners don't have that luxury."

 _I don't either_ , he wanted to say. But, again, it wasn't the same he reminded himself. He could at least have the facsimile of love. Maybe he could even have fondness with Princess Natasha if he would stop keeping his distance. Bruce was in a cage. Had he always been in a cage?

"Wait, then have you never had anyone?"

The emotions that filled Tony in that moment were many. His heart selfishly thrilled that here was someone like him, alone and empty. His slightly possessive nature was even thrilled at the idea that he could be Bruce's first lover – only to be slightly filled with guilt that on a basal level it wouldn't be the same in return. But then pity stirred in his stomach as he thought of why it might be that way – it wasn't the man's choice. That caused the anger to roar to life inside his mind again.

Bruce cut through all of these emotions with gentle ease. "There was a maiden once. Elizabeth."

His voice was distant and fondly reminiscent and the selfish part of his heart that had thrilled now fell like a stone into the ocean. He had never felt this before. There had never been anyone he'd been with that he wanted all for himself. And he barely knew Bruce. This was nonsensical and yet something beyond his control it seemed.

"Was she your true love?"

It was a strange notion, that. True love. And in the realm of politics and royalty it was just a far off dream. Sometimes Tony wondered if it was just a myth young princes and princesses had created somewhere over the centuries to justify their longing for marriages that weren't arranged based on objective merit.

If Bruce scoffed at the idea, he made no show of it. "I thought so. Once."

Tony thought he understood. "I have a friend. She is… amazing. I would give her the throne if I could. I thought I could love her. Thought that I might at one time. But… It wasn't right. Maybe I made it up in my mind, but there was something-"

"Missing?" Tony met Bruce's eyes and saw the kind of understanding that came from experience. Bruce seemed to know his thoughts and nodded in affirmation. "It was the same for us. We knew each other from a very young age and believed it meant we were to be together. It was a thrilling thought and we were fond enough of one another that it wasn't hard to think it was love. Her father… He didn't approve of me. That made the thrill a little greater, I suppose." He paused, very deliberately and licked his lips. Tony wondered what he was debating on saying next. "Incidentally, her father is part of the reason I am what I am now."

Tony wanted to speak. He wanted to ask. He wanted Bruce to continue. He decided silence would be the best motivator for that. If Bruce wanted to share, he would and probably be grateful for no interruption. If only Bruce knew how very unusual it was for him to hold his tongue, the man would know how very much Tony already cared.

"He was a royal sorcerer," Bruce continued. "Thaddeus by name. I was his apprentice from an early age. My mother was- She died when I was very young. My father had little desire to keep me around. Eventually, Thaddeus took me in because I showed promise with alchemy."

Bruce paused again and Tony thought he saw a lifetime's worth of pain just behind the man's eyes. There were finer details, perhaps fragile details, that he wasn't sharing. Tony wouldn't push. He wanted to know everything, but only if Bruce wanted him to know.

"What kingdom?" Tony asked, both out of curiosity and to give Bruce a moment to collect himself.

"Culver."

"Ah. We trade arms with them as a part of our treaty."

"I know." Bruce's tone was clipped. There was something to it. "Thaddeus was fixated on battle. He was obsessed with tactics, weapons, warfare, troops. He had this idea that magic could change the way regular men do battle."

"I'm an inventor," Tony offered. "I invent things that don't make sense to others. Gears, metal, springs. It feels like the future. I'm having a hard time understanding where magic comes into play."

Bruce smiled again for the first time since he'd begun his story. "It depends on the magic." The smile then became a thin, straight line. "But Thaddeus decided the secret was in shape shifting. He believed that if men going to battle could shift into something larger, more formidable, then it would tip the scale in their favor. He-"

Bruce suddenly closed his eyes sharply and rubbed at them with his fingers. Tony was far from stupid. He was good at solving problems or puzzles. It was why he was able to invent things. So he immediately understood what Bruce was implying.

"He used you to test the spell on."

Bruce opened his eyes as if stunned. "Yes. Only, it wasn't a spell. There's no way to undo it that I know of. It was an experimental potion. I- I helped him come up with it so I'm partly to blame. I should have said no, but he insisted and I was confident in my, well, in my work. I was wrong. Now, now I have this _thing_. This beast I can't escape. I know you saw. If anyone hurts me or makes me too angry, I shift into it."

For a brief moment, Tony wondered if he was getting dangerously angry now. But then thought better of it because that would imply there was any danger to begin with. He'd seen the beast and he wasn't afraid of it.

"So what happened?"

"You're still interested?" Bruce seemed confused.

"Of course." Why wouldn't he be?

Bruce's eyes narrowed suddenly. "Why?" Was he still suspicious of Tony's intentions?

"Why not?"

Bruce blinked, as if thrown by the question and he sighed. "Well, when I first turned into the beast, he – or I, I'm not sure which – was angry and uncontrollable. It was like a wild thing acting on instinct to survive. His… My instinct was to destroy anything that was deemed a threat."

Tony could see the struggle on Bruce's face and hear it in the way he seemed confused as to who or what he was now.

"Naturally, I was hunted as a monster," Bruce continued. "I was hunted by the men of my kingdom, under the king's orders. I was hunted by those who wanted a reward for my capture. I was hunted by those who simply wanted the glory. Then there was Thaddeus. He didn't want it to ever be known that he had a hand in the accident so he became obsessed with finding me. He was the first to figure out that I could shift back and used it to his advantage. He used his own daughter to lure me out of hiding. Then he captured me and sold me to the Ringmaster. As long as I'm here, the beast caught and held by a circus, I'm not a threat to him anymore."

"You're not a threat to anyone," Tony said without thinking. It was the first thing that came to his mind at the end of Bruce's story.

Bruce stared long at him. "You've seen it. That's not true."

"Yeah, I have," Tony countered. "And I don't think whatever it is you shift into is a mindless monster because, well, _you_ aren't. I don't think that when you're in that form you're merely out to destroy. And I don't think you believe that either so don't try to convince me you do. I heard you begging them to give you a chance. The chance to transform on your own, am I right?" He didn't give him an opportunity to respond. "You think you can control it… Or maybe you know you can. I mean, I've wondered for a while why the Hulk doesn't break his chains when he's in the ring. He's clearly strong enough to do so. And right now, if you can transform, why don't you just break out? You're keeping that side of you back, aren't you?"

"I-" Bruce looked taken aback. "Not even Clint figured that out. He just thinks…"

"So why? Why let them treat you like this?" Tony had a few guesses, but it was better to hear it from Bruce – if he would answer.

He took a moment to make up his mind. "Because if I let myself lose control, I can't guarantee I won't enjoy the freedom too much. In here, I don't have to run from those who hunt me and there's more of a guarantee I won't hurt anyone. _I don't want_ to hurt anyone."

"Not even asses who deserve it?" Tony looked at him skeptically.

"No, not even that is a good enough reason." He shook his head.

"So you don't want out? Ever?" Tony felt a little part of himself break at that thought.

Was this just another part of that Stark curse that niggled at the back of his mind? Finding someone you wanted to be closer to, but always having something standing in the way? Wasn't it bad enough that Bruce was a man and not his betrothed, neither conducive to a prince expected to give his kingdom an heir?

Bruce sighed. "It's not that. But if I escape in that form of myself, then I'm afraid the survival instincts will be too much to control. It's been so long since I've been free. Freedom as the beast... It scares me I guess."

A light dawned in Tony's eyes. "So then you need to escape as yourself."

Bruce snorted bitterly. He reached out and touched one of the solid bars, running his fingers along it before gripping it tightly. "It can't be done. Clint's tried a few times. It takes too long to pick the locks and the only time the cage is opened is when… When they take me out to make me change or when we need to travel. And I'm shackled when they do so I can't just run. And I won't let Clint kill them. That wouldn't be any different than if I let the Hulk do it."

Tony could see the resignation in Bruce's eyes and he hated it. The man's eyes were too beautiful to be tarnished in such a way. Without giving it another thought, Tony suddenly enclosed his hand around the one Bruce still had on the cage bar. Bruce's eyes snapped up to meet his.

"I'm not Clint. I'll figure something out." It was a promise. It was one he intended to keep.

"Why?"

"Like I said before, why not?"

Bruce shook his head. "That's not an answer," he echoed Tony's sentiments from earlier.

Tony smiled. It felt familiar. "Maybe because I promised both Clint's freedom and yours," he offered first, but knew it wasn't the truth. "Or maybe because I think you deserve more than this. Maybe because you have more than one friend now."

Bruce smiled in a way that suggested he didn't quite know how to handle that answer. "You invent things?" He suddenly asked, perhaps in an attempt to deflect. "I'd sort of like to see that."

Tony felt his chest fill up with pleasant warmth. He'd never wanted to share that side of himself with anyone before. He didn't hide it, but nobody really understood so he didn't bother wasting his time. Really, only his manservant took an interest every now and then. But now he wanted nothing more than to share his inventions with this man. He was likely very intelligent if he'd been an alchemist.

"Don't worry," he said, glancing down at where their hands still lingered. "When we get you out of here, you will."

****~ & ~** **

"I think you're the kind of man who could be dangerous, but isn't. I get the impression that there's a subtle honesty about you. I think you like to do the right thing even when you have to bend the rules a little to manage it. I also think you tend to trust your instincts, even if it could burn you in the end. You know that I know and yet you seem to trust that I didn't tell anyone. You trust that I trust you. And if you were here for nefarious purposes, you wouldn't have trusted me no matter how beautiful I am."

Clint listened as the princess gave him an outline of her first conclusions regarding his character as they sat alone, across from one another, in the palace library. Instead of asking her if she knew or how she knew, he'd asked her to tell him what kind of man she thought he might be. She was damn good at it.

"You're right. I do trust you. And I'm not here for nefarious purposes."

She smiled at his clipped, straightforward answer, seemingly pleased. "Then why are you here? I can read people, but I can't always determine motives. And I'm not certain why Tony would allow someone else to take his place with a shape shifting spell… Which I assume is what you've used unless you are a pauper twin?"

"Shape shifting, yes. Tony is in danger. Here at the palace. I'm really a circus performer. I stumbled upon some of my colleagues attempting to kill him for hire by someone here who wants him dead before his coronation. Tony hired me to figure out who and deal with it. It's something I'm good at. I've been an assassin more than once in my life. Although I don't plan on killing whoever this is if I don't have to."

"Lord Stane," Natasha said sharply and Clint raised an eyebrow. "He's next in line and the few times I've met him, I got the distinct feeling he isn't what he seems."

"Really? That was Tony's guess too. Maybe you and I can work together then? My gut tells me you're intrigued by all of this."

He really hoped his gut was as strong as her people-reading skills. He could use an ally in this operation.

She nodded. "I am. And I have no desire to be wed to Lord Stane," she added with slight disgust.

Clint's face turned up. Not only because he knew Lord Stane to be a much older man, but also because he was once again reminded that Natasha was betrothed to Tony.

"Then I think we can pull this off as a team. I do have one question though."

"How did I know?" He nodded. She bit her lip and was silent for a very long moment.

He got the impression it must be more serious than simply being a shape shifter herself. In fact, she had asked if he was a pauper twin which implied that she had figured out his disguise and yet not because she could see him for what he really looked like. Was it really only because she'd made a habit of studying people for sake of survival? And why would she need to do so in order to survive in the first place?

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he added. He trusted her whether or not she explained herself. So he said as much, "I'll still trust you."

Her lips pursed, but then she said, "I am a Changeling."

His eyes widened and he let out a sharp breath. Changelings were the offspring of Sidh or Trolls that were exchanged with human children, most often the offspring of royals, for some purpose or other. Sometimes it was entirely consensual, a negotiation or an alliance, while other times parents were unaware their child had been exchanged until much later when it became apparent. Changelings were strong, cunning, magical, and potentially dangerous as their inherent moral compass was still that of their people. They were rarely trusted if their identities were discovered.

"Sidh or Troll?" Clint asked to the point.

She seemed amused by the question. "Sidh. My father wanted to strengthen his blood line. His son was sickly and not likely to survive and his wife had died in childbirth. He struck a deal with my people for a Changeling."

Clint furrowed his brow. "A daughter for a son? How does that make sense?"

She bit her lip again. "The deal is that if I am married to someone of the Stark House, then the Sidh will return my father's son to him, strong and healthy to rule. If the marriage does not happen, then his son will remain with my people and I will be at his mercy alone."

"That's why it's important that we make sure Tony is safe. So you can marry him." Clint put the pieces together. It wasn't Lord Stane's age that was a concern. It was that he wasn't a Stark. She nodded solemnly.

There was silence between them again. Clint grabbed a nearby book and toyed with it for a moment as he thought about his options. He considered everything she told him and suddenly felt like he was in too deep, but there was no going back. He felt a strange desire to do whatever he could for the princess, Changeling or not, even if it meant assuring a union between her and the prince. It was like she'd said, he tended to trust his instincts, but sometimes he got burned when he did. This could very well end up being one of those times.

"Then I'll do whatever I can to see that it happens," he finally said and she blinked at him in surprise.

**~ & ~**

Tony visited Bruce whenever he could. In fact, he really couldn't keep himself away. They spent their time discussing alchemy and inventing. Tony would share, when he was certain no one was around, details about his life as a prince, telling him of his few friends and his obligations and of his distrust of Lord Stane who he firmly believed was the one who had hired the circus ruffians.

Bruce had even shared some details of his own past. As it turned out, his father had murdered his mother when he was a very young boy and would have very likely done the same to him in time if he'd not fled to the neighboring kingdom of Culver. It was as an orphan, intelligent and gifted in the art of alchemy, that he had found a small reprieve from his troubled life when Thaddeus had put out an advertisement for an apprentice.

When Tony wasn't able to spend time with Bruce, as the former alchemist had begged him again not to stay and watch the way he was abused and the grotesque way his body shifted and Tony couldn't deny him this time and couldn't trust himself not to step in, and since some long hours were spent with Bruce shifting back to his normal body, he still spent his idle hours lost primarily in thoughts of the man in the cage. If he wasn't thinking of ways to possibly free him, and he often was because he was more determined than ever to make good on his promise, he was simply just thinking _of him_.

Bruce's dark, worn eyes haunted him at every turn. When he closed his own eyes, images of the man echoed in his mind's eye. And not all of those images were of an innocent variety. It had only been three full days of having known Bruce, but Tony knew he wanted him in every way. He wanted him in his arms, and he wanted him in his bed, and he wanted him on the throne beside him, and he wanted him in his workshop where he kept his inventions, and he wanted him by his side at sessions of Parliament, and he wanted him at royal balls to dance with, _and he just wanted him_.

But there were still too many obstacles in the way and he cursed the Stark curse that he was beginning to believe was very real. Bruce was still a prisoner, somebody still wanted Tony dead, and Tony was still very much betrothed. It was one of the princely obligations Tony had very decidedly not elected to share with Bruce yet. He wasn't entirely sure Bruce felt the same way he did, but he had a good deal of hope and it grew each time they were together, and the top priority was Bruce's freedom.

Every now and then, Tony's thoughts did manage to break away from the bind that Bruce seemed to have on them. When they did, they wandered instead to the palace and the particular issue of who wanted him dead, why they wanted him dead, and whether or not Clint had made any progress. The problem would be proof. There was need to reveal the traitor's (or traitors') hand. Making a claim would not be enough.

In the past few days he had also come to realize that in spite of his previous desires to give up the throne, he didn't actually want to. If only he could go back to the palace and show the courage to rule _his_ kingdom, in _his_ way, he would. The longer he spent away, and the more time he spent with Bruce, the more he was tired of being a shell of himself. If he was to be king then he would be his own king who would find a way to protect his people and better their lives with or without approval from Steven or Parliament. He might even denounce his betrothal to the Princess of Sheldonia if only Bruce would have him.

And he really hoped Bruce would have him.

**~ & ~**

"You're such an elegant dancer, Lord Stane." Clint watched from a close enough distance that he could hear bits and pieces of Princess Natasha's demure flirtations with the suspected traitor.

The ball was in honor of her arrival. It was stuffy and pomp and Clint could probably get used to it if he were being honest. Then again, it would maybe depend on if ladies like Natasha were there. She was draped in the finest yellow gown he had ever seen. It was embellished with an onyx stone at her low-cut breast, had a sheer black layer over the skirt, and her gloves were black instead of white or yellow. He knew it was a defiant, outward sign of who she really was. She was dangerous and magical and, being a Sidh woman, could easily destroy the lives of any man or woman in the room if she willed them to love her.

Clint swallowed hard and forced himself to study the room for other potential traitors. He had ruled out the Steward. Steven was perhaps very stern and a keeper of traditions that he had long been part of, being over a century old, but he seemed to have Tony's best intentions at heart. Clint even suspected that Steven secretly wished for Tony to break away from tradition if he did so in a way that would be for good and not motivated by the worst habits Natasha had described of the prince. He'd also come to the conclusion from the few conversations they'd had, that Steven had been very close to and fond of King Howard and perhaps the feeling had been mutual. Whether it was strong friendship or something more, Clint decided not to worry himself about it. What mattered is Steven wouldn't betray that bond by hurting Tony. Lady Virginia, third in line to the throne, and the Captain of the Guard, were also ruled out. Tony had said they were his closest friends and nothing Clint had gleaned from them convinced him to the contrary.

"Why, Lord Stane, I should think you would make a better king," Natasha's words caught his ear and Clint turned his attention toward them again. She was alarmingly close to the older man and Clint couldn't deny he almost wished he was in the Lord's shoes at the moment rather than Tony's.

"Well, I certainly envy my future king's bride-to-be," the Lord said with a placating smile, but Clint could see the lust there.

He watched then as Natasha made the pretense of needing air and asked for the Lord's accompaniment to the garden that the ballroom opened out onto. He sighed. He knew that seduction was a tried and true method of getting past a corrupt man's guard, but it wasn't particularly amusing to watch the princess in this role. He moved to the garden as well after a few moments so to watch them just the same should Natasha need his help. However, Clint wasn't under any delusions that the princess couldn't handle herself.

So he wasn't surprised when she found the lord mumbling drunkenly against her as she kept an impassive face that Clint knew disguised her disgust. Somehow she had already managed to poison his drink and he wondered when. It didn't matter of course. What mattered was that he was babbling something about killing a golden goose and breaking a curse. Then suddenly Steven arrived looking quite concerned.

"Is everything alright?" The steward looked back and forth between the lord and princess.

"I came out into the garden for some fresh air," Natasha said so evenly that Clint could only admire her more for it. "Lord Stane seems to be a bit taken with spirits, I'm afraid."

Clint took that as a cue to approach casually. "Ah, there you are. Feeling refreshed? Shall we have the next dance?" He looked at Natasha and she smiled, understanding. "Looks as if Lord Stane has had one too many drinks this evening," he then said with a laugh towards the uncomfortable looking steward.

Steven nodded. "It does seem that way. But I'll handle it, your majesty." Steven took the weight of the drunken lord onto his strong shoulders and respectfully nodded to Clint and Natasha.

She thanked him and then Clint led her back inside for their dance, which he had every intention of having if she'd allow it. She did.

"Do you think the golden goose is Tony?" Clint asked her in a hushed tone as they waltzed.

"It makes sense that way," she answered. Then after a moment of clear consideration she added, "I'm curious about the curse part though."

"I was wondering that myself. I wonder if it's literal or if he meant that Tony being king would be a curse that he won't allow."

She nodded in agreement. Then, glancing around, and lowering her voice even more she said, "I've often wondered why it is that my people wished strongly for me to marry into the Stark House. Why would no other kingdom do? Why not simply change a son for a son as is the usual way?"

"Huh. So perhaps there is a literal force at work then?" Clint's mind was already attempting to analyze the possible angles. Magic was not something he was very familiar with and so he was a little at a loss. Monsters and magic were Bruce's forte.

He realized then that he hadn't considered his caged friend since first coming to the palace. He hoped that he was okay and wouldn't wonder too much at his not visiting him. Clint would always go into whatever town they were in and bring him new trinkets - Bruce was especially fond of books when he could afford them. He also would sneak him treats when he could, although the Ringmaster made sure to keep him fed and healthy enough at least.

Tony wouldn't know any of this and so he sincerely hoped Bruce wouldn't worry that his only friend – and Clint made no presumptions that he was a very good one – had finally given up on him. This served to remind him that he had four different pieces in play and that this assignment was getting muddied. He had his own integrity at stake, a promise to the future king and hopes for his friendship and favor after, a hope that said favor would be a bargaining chip for Bruce's freedom if nothing else, and now Natasha's protection from her father.

"Clint?" Natasha's use of his real name took him by surprise. He had shared it with her, of course, but she hadn't yet used it.

"I was thinking about everything," he replied to her curious glance. It wasn't a lie. "I have no idea how magic could be involved in any of this. And…" He sighed.

"You're worried you'll fail." It wasn't a question. She could see right through him.

"I am," he admitted. "I have a lot riding on this job. I have a friend who I could have helped immediately if only I had turned it down, but I didn't. I thought I could be the hero. I thought I could get the most out of the deal. I was so caught up in my own survival that I didn't just take the easy way out. Now, now it's different. Now it's more complicated than ever."

He knew he was crossing into dangerous territory. He knew the confession that hung on his lips. He wasn't sure he would be able to keep it back if only she were to just—

"Why?" She asked the question, her eyes searching his for the answer before he could speak it.

"You."


	3. Chapter 3

III

Clint watched from his (well Tony's) bed as Natasha stood in the middle of the room, fixing her complicated dress back in place. He didn't envy women for their fashion and he wished she could have stayed in his arms until the morning. But neither would appreciate being caught by the servants nor would it be good for Natasha's reputation if for some reason it should be discovered that Clint was not Tony.

"He's not the only one who doesn't want this marriage," Natasha said softly, still dressing as the moonlight trickled in through the curtains of the balcony window. "He would have realized that if only he would have paid attention. We could have maybe even become friends or come up with an arrangement. It's not ideal, but—"

"It is a way," Clint agreed.

Being a peasant meant not letting oneself believe too foolishly in true love and happily ever after the way children were taught to do. It meant growing up and realizing the world was cruel and difficult and finding true happiness was often a one in a hundred chance. So if you were one of the lucky few, you didn't squabble about the details rather you did what you needed to hold on to it. So, Clint knew he would be her courtier and secret lover if it were a way to be with her.

She snorted, barely audible. "But, no. Tony believes in true love. And the moment he decided it isn't me, which I guess must have been some time when we were children, he shut me out."

"I understand why he'd want that, but I question his judgment a little. Having fondness with you seems a whole lot better than some of the maids he's apparently been with."

"Oh, he's been with more than just maids," she said with a smirk as she turned to look at him.

He shrugged a little sitting up on the bed. "Yeah, I had my suspicions."

"Not many that I'm aware of, but it's fairly common gossip that he'd be happier with a man."

"I'm sure Parliament would love that."

"Which is probably why he doesn't bother," she said pointedly. "That and I think he gave up on the notion of ever really finding someone a long time ago. After he realized it wasn't Lady Virginia. Now he's just being stubborn."

Clint chuckled. "I actually don't have a hard time imagining that from him for some reason. I'll probably get back to the circus and find out he managed to make everyone hate me or something."

"Perhaps," she said with a coy smile. "But I keep hoping one of these days he'll surprise us all."

**~ & ~**

"So, I got you something," Tony said by way of salutation as he approached Bruce's pitiful home.

His heart fluttered as it often did when Bruce acknowledged his presence. The other man immediately looked up from the book he'd been reading (or re-reading as Tony had learned Clint could only buy him books on rare occasions) and smiled fondly. Then Bruce's brain seemed to catch up with what Tony had said, which Tony secretly was okay with because it meant he'd been smiling at him and not the idea of a gift, and he gave him a curious look. Bruce closed his book, set it aside, and stood to his feet slowly.

"You really didn't have to," he said warily.

Tony dismissed his self-deprecation with a raised eyebrow. "I'm a prince. I can afford to buy you anything. Really. But that would maybe look a little suspicious at the moment."

Bruce smiled and ducked his head. "Well, I'm glad you have enough self-preservation skills to have figured that out," he teased.

Tony couldn't be offended by the jest. It was proof of how much Bruce had come to understand him in so little time, only a week really. He understood him in ways that others who'd known him for years had never understood him.

"I thought you could use another book," Tony said, and handed him the crudely-wrapped parcel – bound in brown paper with rope – through the space between two bars. Tony was glad that they were wide enough for that at least (although they had to be in order to give Bruce simple food items without unlocking the cage every time).

In spite of his previous hesitation, Bruce eagerly opened the gift once he knew it was a book. Tony smiled at the way his eyes lit up at the prospect and his dexterous, though sadly now ill-used, fingers gracefully loosened the knot and slid the brown paper away from the treasure inside. Tony only briefly longed for those mesmerizing hands to be somewhere on his own person – he'd take something as innocent as the freedom to link their hands together, but he could admit that's not what he'd been thinking of. Bruce's wide, wonder filled eyes were enough to bring him back to the moment before his thoughts could linger on the aforementioned longing.

"This… This is…" He looked up at him, eyes still wide and sparkling in a way that Tony wanted them always to. "I haven't seen this book since I was a very young alchemist. Thaddeus didn't care much for his principles and told me not to muddle my mind with them, but I was always fascinated." He splayed his fingers reverently across the cover of the book and smiled at him. "Thank you," he whispered before going to open the book. When he did a wax sealed envelope felt to the ground.

Bruce furrowed his brow in confusion and bent down quickly to pick it up. As he held it up, he studied the words written in ink upon the front. Tony knew that they read:

_Open Upon the Coronation of Anthony Edward of the Stark House_

"Consider it a…" Tony fumbled for how to explain it. "Well, a symbol. Something concrete to go along with my promise." Bruce tilted his head slightly, still uncertain. "I expect you to be there because I expect to get you out of here," he finally elaborated.

He didn't miss the way Bruce's chest inflated, sucking in a breath at his words. Bruce carefully tucked the envelope back into the book and, closing the book again, held it tightly to his chest as if afraid if he didn't, he'd find that it wasn't real. Maybe he was afraid that Tony wasn't real.

Tony stepped closer to the cage, wishing he could just squeeze through them. He was almost certain he would even _live in there_ with Bruce if only he could just be with him. As Bruce took a step closer as well, Tony was encouraged to think that he wished for the same thing.

Suddenly they were broken from the trance as the harsh voice of the Ringmaster was heard and another voice that caused Tony to furrow his brow. It was familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. Bruce quickly moved to a different part of the cage, craning his neck and searching – Tony had learned that being on the run and then being imprisoned (along perhaps with his inner beast's survival instincts, but he wasn't quite certain) had heightened his senses. Then Bruce's eyes widened.

"Hide, Tony," he hissed, panic in his voice and for a moment his eyes were flecked with green that told Tony he felt threatened on his behalf. He didn't have time to consider it too much though as Bruce was insistent he hide."It's a shape shifter. You have to hide," he urged him.

"Shape shifter?" Suddenly it clicked in his mind as to where he recognized the voice. "Loki," he muttered and quickly moved to follow Bruce's advice.

He made for the same barrels and bags that he'd hidden behind that first fateful day he'd met Bruce, only making sure he was good and hedged this time (thankfully there was fresh boughs of hay this time as well) with just a small enough peephole to see anything should he be needed. He watched as Bruce quickly hid the new book and parcel wrapping in his lone knapsack of spare clothing and sewing supplies, and then sat back down on the floor of the cage to casually read his previous book.

"I understand your reservations." Sure enough, Tony saw the raven-haired wizard come into view as he walked alongside the Ringmaster. "Your business being what it is, but—" He stopped suddenly and looked over Bruce with a knowing, calculating expression that the other man clearly understood to mean Loki could tell he too could shape shift.

Tony bit down on a curse and resisted the urge to angle himself between Loki and the cage since that would do little good. For a brief moment he had hoped Loki had come as a friend, looking to check on him or offer help or even word from the palace. But the barely concealed malice in Loki's eyes and the wicked knowing in his smile towards the former alchemist determined once and for all that to trust this wizard would be the choice of a fool.

"My apologies," Loki seemed to remember himself and continued."As I was saying, I have it on very good authority that his majesty has discovered your masterful work here and is conspiring with a little birdie among your company to have you all thrown in the stocks. I quite suspect the edict to have the Captain of the Guard and his men raid your little show will be made before tonight's performance."

The Ringmaster looked hesitant. "If we were thieves…" Loki rolled his eyes slightly at that. "Then the course of action would be simple. We wouldn't thieve so long as the king's men were present."

Loki looked unimpressed. Tony wouldn't blame him if he weren't otherwise preoccupied by his anger toward the traitor. "Ah, yes, but the kingsmen are trained to see through such deceptions. They would either return every night until you finally pull out, putting a halt to any additional money you could make in the mean time, or they would come in a manner that does not belie their rank."

The Ringmaster's face fell at the prospect, but he turned a suspicious eye toward Loki just the same. "And if any of this were true, why should I trust you?"

"You shouldn't," Loki said in a clever way that Tony understood the meaning of first hand. It was both the truth and a bluff. "I care not if the palace throws you in the stocks. But there is one amongst you, this same one who is conspiring against you, who I would like to see gone from here. If you leave with him, then I shall be satisfied."

Tony's eyes narrowed and he glanced at Bruce to see he was clutching his book with knuckles that should be white yet were tinged with green. Before anything more could be heard of the conversation between Loki and the Ringmaster, they moved on through the camp heading no doubt towards the Ringmaster's wagon home. Tony didn't move until Bruce had stood up again, looked and inclined his ear in the direction they had gone, and then given him a nod that the coast was clear.

"That bastard!" Tony muttered angrily as he came out from hiding and paced in front of Bruce's cage. "Clint was right not to trust him."

"He usually is," Bruce said simply as his eyes watched Tony move back and forth until he stopped and looked at him.

"What's his play? He knows I could have his head if it suited me."

"You are," Bruce said sharply. "He wants you gone. The circus wouldn't normally pull out this soon. You and Clint should have had time to switch back. But if he tells the Ringmaster that Clint, who for all intents and purposes is you, is the conspirator then you're as good as out of the way. They'll have you bound and gagged and then if he doesn't kill you before we reach the next town he'll still leave you as good as dead somewhere. With you out of the way, Loki can go after Clint next. Who knows what he's planning, but it doesn't matter. You need to call his bluff."

Tony had been listening intently, calculating and considering the puzzle. It had all made perfect sense until the last, but now he was at a loss. He narrowed his eyes at Bruce. "What are you saying?"

"You're leaving. Right now." He said it firmly. "Go into town and hide before they can come find you. The Ringmaster won't risk waiting around long just to get hold of Clint if he really believes your men will come after him. So that's _your_ play. Then you can get to the castle and warn Clint or do whatever you need to."

Tony felt himself vibrating with anger. He shook his head as he listened. "No," he said at the end of the spiel. He knew it was a logical plan, but he wouldn't do it.

"What do you mean no?" Bruce's expression was startled to say the least.

Tony breathed in sharply and set his jaw as he stepped as closely as he could to Bruce's cage. "That doesn't work because you're still in there."

Bruce tightened his jaw as well, fixing him with a scowl. "Tony, that doesn't matter. That's not important."

"Like hell it's not," Tony countered. "I am _not_ leaving you with them. I'm not going back to the palace without you!" He knew that somewhere along the way his indignation had melted into desperation, but he didn't care.

" _Tony_ ," Bruce sounded equally desperate. "Tony, please. You can't stay. You have to leave. Listen to me. If you stay and something happens to you—I…" His face looked broken as he ducked his head, closing his eyes as he did. "I can't let that happen."

Tony felt his heart tighten before attempting to lodge itself into his throat. He reached his hand through the bars and gently cupped Bruce's chin and tilted it to look at him, Bruce's eyes opening at the contact. "I promised," he forced the words out and moved his hand to cup his cheek.

"I know," Bruce said as he leaned into the touch. He then grabbed Tony's hand with both of his to pull it away, with what Tony knew was practiced strength and self-denial. "But that won't matter if you're dead. And I'll be fine so long as I'm in here. Not free, but fine. Tony... please go?"

Tony closed his eyes and ran through the problem once more, searching desperately for another solution. He could chase after the circus when everything was said and done and he would if that was the only solution. He would search out every kingdom if he had to, but his greatest hope was keeping Bruce here where he had the most power. _Power…_

Tony's eyes snapped open wide. "I have a plan."

"Tony? Tony, what… What are you doing?" Bruce looked frantically at him as Tony backed away from the cage, ready to dart.

"You're right," he said, nodding. "I have to get away from here. I have to be me again before the Ringmaster can pull the circus out of town and you along with it. I have to get to the palace and send my men before Loki can make his next play. How long does it usually take? To-to tear down the circus I mean."

"Not long if he hurries and threatens his people to get it done," Bruce answered, looking around for signs of danger. "But I don't think it could be sooner than sunset. That's still not much time, Tony."

"Then I better hurry." And with that Tony took off running as fast as his feet could carry him to the palace.

He invoked the counter spell as he went in hopes of securing a horse from a townsman that would recognize him.

**~ & ~**

Clint and Natasha stood alone in the drawing room waiting for Lord Stane. The man was keen to apologize for the night before according to Steven.

"Or keen to smoke us out," Clint said under his breath to Natasha as they waited. She hummed her agreement just before the door opened again and they both turned to meet the older man's gaze. They could now see it for the cold cunning that it was.

Steven made it known that he was going to stand just outside the door and to knock when they were done.

"My apologies for my untoward behavior last night, your majesties," the lord began with a fake pleasantry. "I am not as young as I once was, I'm afraid. The drink went too quickly to my head in the company of such a beautiful, young maiden."

"Well, these things do happen," Clint appeased. "There was no real harm done."

"None at all?" He gave them a calculating look that Clint knew Natasha didn't miss any more than he did. "I'm sure I said something unkind, but can't quite recall. Please, do not spare my feelings. I wish to apologize entirely or perhaps explain myself."

Clint spared a surreptitious glance at Natasha to see if he could read her opinion on the matter. What they said or did next may be the chance to take him down or just throw water on the whole thing. He opened his mouth to say something so as not to look suspicious, but then noticed the way Natasha's eyes went wide and she pulled away and looked at Lord Stane.

"Imposter!" She cried and he immediately knew it was a warning to him and in order to feign her own innocence in the matter.

He immediately realized Tony must have invoked the counter spell. For what reason Clint couldn't begin to guess since he was well beyond the point of understanding how the prince's mind might work. On principle he was forced to assume that Tony was in trouble and this had been the only way out. Only now it put him in a sticky situation as well.

"Guards!" Lord Stane shouted and Steven hurried into the room.

"What's going on here?" Steven looked at Clint in confusion and then anger. "Where is the prince? What have you done with him?"

Clint bit his tongue to stop his first instinct which was to jump straight to pointing a finger at Lord Stane. They had no reason to believe him if he did that, not without Tony, and it would show his hand that he was working with Tony and suspicious of the traitorous lord.

"He's being held prisoner in town," he said instead. And then at the sharp, suspicious glance that damned the lord once and for all as far as guilt was concerned, he lied, "I was hired by three circus thugs who captured him for ransom. They were hired by someone in the palace and they wanted me to scare him into paying double for a second capture. They used a shape shifting spell on me to make me look like him."

"I will take a band of guards and find him at once," Lord Stane said nobly to Steven and hurried out of the room.

Clint bit down on a curse. Stane was on his way to try and head off a search in town no doubt. As Steven grabbed his arms with surprising strength and twisted them behind his back, he gave Natasha one quick look and hoped that she understood she should follow the lord. She left the room immediately so perhaps she did.

**~ & ~**

Tony rode hard until at last the palace gates were near, but just inside the gates he was suddenly thrown from his horse at a bizarre screeching noise. Disoriented, he looked up to see Lord Stane standing over him. "Guards," he attempted to call out. Where were the gate guards?

"They're not here, Anthony," he sneered at him. "I've sent them all to the palace. There's a traitor among us, Anthony. Someone posed like you."

"Clint," he muttered before he could stop himself. He had hoped he would get back and explain everything so his being found out wouldn't be a problem, but he hadn't counted on this.

"Ah, so you know him then? Was this your plan? You always were clever for all your stupidity."

Just then Tony thought he saw a flash of fiery red hair. Was it? It had to be. Natasha was hiding, watching. She was his last hope, but what could she do unless she was armed? And it might still be too late if she ran into the palace to find someone to believe her.

"Then I guess there's no one left to help you, Anthony," Stane said as he kicked him before he could right himself to his feet. Then, Stane dragged him upwards and Tony struggled against him until suddenly there was that awful screeching sound in his ears once more. "Did you think you were the only one who can make gadgets? Hmm?"

He could barely hear him over the ringing in his ears. So it was something Stane had done. He'd marvel at the invention if he weren't otherwise trying to orient himself. While he struggled again, Stane punched him in the gut and then used Tony's doubling over to quickly begin dragging him away from the open.

Where Stane planned to take him he couldn't begin to know, but suddenly all of his thoughts went to Bruce. Bruce would be waiting and he would be dead if Natasha couldn't...

"Bruce!" He shouted, a desperate plan forming. Bruce could transform. He had been holding back his anger at just the mere thought of Tony being endangered. He would maybe get angry enough to break free and then that would be enough. Tony didn't care who the beast killed so long as there was one last shot he could be free. He needed to keep his promise. "Somebody has to tell Bruce at least!" He shouted, hoping he sounded deranged to Stane and purposeful to the princess. "He has to know! He's in danger! At the circus! Somebody warn him! Please!"

Stane punched him again. "You're wasting your breath. Nobody is going to hear you and come, Anthony. They think I've gone to find you already. And by time they figure it out it'll be too late for you."

And then there was darkness.

**~ & ~**

As Clint began to come to, he was immediately aware that his hands were bound behind a chair and he was gagged. His nose told him he was somewhere damp and he guessed that when he opened his eyes, he would find himself in a dank, forgotten part of the palace, perhaps far underground and left over from earlier years of the kingdom.

So he really wasn't surprised when he opened his eyes to see just that. He also wasn't surprised to see the two guards who obviously were working for Lord Stane. They had volunteered to keep guard of him while the others went to join the search for Tony only to have then knocked him out as soon as they were alone.

What he hadn't wanted to see when he opened his eyes was Lord Stane standing between those two guards or Tony sitting bound, gagged and staring daggers at the lord in a chair beside him. He sincerely hoped that Natasha was safe somewhere.

"...and then your great-great-grandfather King Abraham was killed by the Hydra sect who, as you know, were quite the zealots in their quest to live among the gods." Lord Stane seemed to be in the middle of a story of some kind. "Your great-grandfather avenged that death by banning all forms of magic and alchemy from the palace walls. That  angered the palace wizard who put a curse on the Stark House."

So the curse was literal. Beside him, Tony's eyes widened as if this was an epiphany of some kind. Clint meanwhile worked to get the gag out of his mouth as he'd been taught how long ago by his older brother.

"After that, no one in the Stark House could ever find happiness again unless a royal heir falls in love with a person of magic, thus breaking the curse for good. How touching," he jeered. "Of course your ancestors didn't know that when they banished royal sorcerers and kept magic limited to the outside world. So you can see where the problem lies."

 _Aha._ That's why Natasha's marriage to Tony had been arranged. King Howard must have known somehow that she was a magical being and had wanted to ensure she was intended for his son. It wasn't hard to wonder if maybe Tony's father had been desperate enough to break the curse that he arranged a deal with the Sidh himself, thus setting off the entire chain of events. What didn't quite make sense now, as he considered it, was why Lord Stane was so intent on telling this particular story. What did it have to do with his wanting to kill the golden goose when he also said something about breaking the curse? Unless…

At last he spit out the gag and made immediate opportunity to get answers. "So you're going to kill him because he's not in love with the Princess of Sheldonia?"

Lord Stane's derisive laughter, which sounded a bit like he was choking on air, was not something he'd expected. "No." He shook his head. "You see, I'm not taking any chances that he'll learn to love the princess. But I can't exactly kill her without starting a war so killing Prince Anthony before he can marry her is the only answer."

"You don't want the curse to be broken?" Clint looked at him in confusion. He'd been muttering about _not_ wanting to break the curse?

"Why would I? Magic is weakness. It's strength of arms that's the future. Our kingdom has advanced mightily and prospered without magic and I'm not going to jeopardize that just because some miserable rulers can't find happiness. Love? Happiness? It clouds the mind. We can be even mightier than we are if we build up our army and go to war against weaker kingdoms. Through progress and arms we could _control_ other kingdoms."

"What you really mean is you could be a Merchant of Death," Clint retorted. Just a little more and… "And you're going to start by killing the crown prince and taking his throne for yourself? You don't think anyone will get suspicious?" His hands were loosened from the ropes.

"Not when the golden goose laid one final egg."

Clint stilled his movements and considered that. "You mean you're going to frame me?" That's why they'd dragged him here. Not just to kill him for knowing the truth.

"You catch on quick, my boy," he said with no small amount of condescension.

Clint had to move quickly then. He re-situated the rope so that he could use it for a weapon and was grateful that the three men were clearly too dumb to have bound their legs as well - amateur move, really. Then, he feigned to look surprised by something just beyond them (because shouting in surprise was rarely the kind of diversion that was believed in these situations). When they fell for it, he made his move, going first for the guard with the visible short sword on his person so he could free Tony.

**~ & ~**

Tony ran as desperately as his feet would carry him, but he knew Lord Stane was likely close behind him somewhere while Clint continued to subdue the two guards in the room he'd just been in. He wasn't even sure what part of the palace he was in, but he needed to either get outside or upstairs or somewhere where there might be someone who could help – or at least be a witness. He was aware that likely all of the guards and main palace officials were searching for him, but he hoped that Natasha had found Bruce and then found the kingsmen that were likely in town. Unless of course the kingsmen had decided to detour from their quest to go after a giant, green beast.

 _Damn it!_ That hadn't been something he'd considered. But there was nothing for it now if that was the case. He just needed to keep moving.

Suddenly there was a staircase. Up. Yes! Good! The best place to go was up. He rounded it quickly only daring to stop momentarily to grab a torch that hung on the wall. He could use it as a weapon if need be, he hoped. He stopped again to grab the next one he saw just so Lord Stane couldn't. Then he hurried even faster up the stairs until he saw a door with a barred window that showed the night sky just behind it. Outside! Also good!

Suddenly realizing it would take too long to fumble with getting the door open having his hands full, he turned and rolled one of the torches down the stairs hoping it tripped the other man up if he was still following – of course he was! – and then once he opened the wooden door he closed it and set it ablaze in hopes he could garner even more time to escape, then dropped the torch.

He ran across the open courtyard and saw Natasha riding quickly toward him on the horse he'd ridden earlier. He'd never been so relieved to see his betrothed. He briefly chastised himself for ignoring her friendship all these years.

"Where's Clint?" She asked, jumping from the horse with a skilled grace that left him slightly stunned.

"Back there," he answered as he turned and pointed toward the fiery door. "Lord Stane is after me and he's taking out two guards that had us prisoner. Did you find Bruce?"

"You're crazy, you realize that?" She said it with humor in her tone and he scrunched his face at the inappropriate timing. "Yes, I found him, or it, or whatever."

"He's just a shape shifter," Tony said defensively although now probably wasn't the time for that either.

"The guards don't seem to think so. And they're so busy trying to capture him that they wouldn't listen to me to- Look out!"

Before Tony had a chance to react, Natasha swiftly pushed him to the ground just as a fiery arrow sailed past them overhead.

"Where did he get a bow?" Tony muttered in disbelief.

"Does it really matter right now?" Natasha sniped back. "Take the horse and head to town. They won't believe me, but they'll believe it if they see you. I'm going to find Clint."

Tony didn't argue. If she wanted to risk her life to go find Clint, that was her decision. Although, he briefly wondered what exactly had happened between them over the past week – not that he really should be wasting any time thinking about it since he could clearly see that the deranged lord was running toward the stables no doubt to follow _and_ he still had a bow. The palace horses were stronger than the one he was on, especially since the poor creature had ridden multiple journeys that day. Stane would overtake him in no time so every gallop between them was critical.

Sure enough it wasn't long before another arrow, though not fiery this time, whizzed past his head and he cursed. He also cursed the fact that he wasn't the kind of prince to always have a sword on his person or that he hadn't thought to keep Clint's bow and quiver on his person either while pretending to be the man.

He continued to weave and just barely avoid arrows, glancing back every so often to see the distance between them. He was still too far from town. He would never make it. He would—

There was a terrible roar and his horse went wild with fright, throwing him to the ground (again, he groaned). He could hear Stane's horse join in the frenzied state, but palace horses were well trained not to throw their riders. Tony scrambled backward on his heels and palms as he saw Lord Stane striding toward him with his bow drawn.

Then there was another roar, close and loud and beautifully familiar. Tony registered the wide-eyed fear in the lord's eyes just as he turned to see the Hulk charging their way, the guards following him. _Not a mindless beast at all!_ Tony guessed he was leading the kingsmen to him since they wouldn't listen to Natasha.

He turned back again just in time to see the desperate, final arrow loosed from Lord Stane's bow only for it to meet with the green beast that leaped between them to take the blow instead.

**~ & ~**

Clint came into the drawing room where Tony awaited word from him. Natasha was with him as well and they had been in the middle of laughing about something. He was glad to see they were getting along. He could see clearly that Tony would never love her in that way, not now that the prince had stumbled across his friend, so the curse wouldn't be broken. Still, it would keep Natasha safe from her adopted father if Tony was now more agreeable to the marriage and they would at least make for better companions than before.

"It's as I suspected," Clint said by way of greeting. Tony turned quickly to look at him, face falling slightly. "He did come back at some point because his bag is gone or else his things were stolen. But we had guards there so it wouldn't have been any ordinary thief."

After making sure Tony was safe, the Hulk had run off into the night and they hadn't found him yet. Clint had guessed that he might come back for his belongings, needing clothes, and had gone to check – since the members of the Ten Ring Circus had been arrested along with Loki for their crimes and they had yet to do anything with the tent and animals.

"It would have been a man who's good at disappearing," Tony said with a knowing sigh. Clint guessed that Bruce had shared with him stories about how he had managed to avoid capture by honing his abilities to slip past people undetected.

"I'm sorry, Tony," Clint offered. In a way he was. He knew Tony would allow him to still see Natasha if he'd ask it. It was a shame Bruce had run off before Natasha could allow the same.

"At least he's free somewhere," Tony said and Clint could hear the conviction in his voice even if it was tinged with melancholy. "That's what I wanted. That was the point of sending Natasha to him."

"Thank you for that," Clint replied. He knew it was silly to say thank you on behalf of his friend, but he felt it just the same. The small smile Tony gave him told him that he understood the sentiment.

"This is my fault," Natasha interjected. He looked at her in confusion, but she turned her attention toward Tony. "When I was trying to get him to trust me, I told him I was your betrothed. It just slipped out as a way to try and make him understand that I knew you. I didn't realize all I had to do was say that both you and Clint were in danger to send him into his frenzy. I wouldn't have said anything else at all if I'd known."

Clint considered her point. "So you think he's staying away because he doesn't realize you and Tony aren't in love? Yeah, I could see him doing that. He wouldn't interfere."

"That's my fault really," Tony said with a sigh. "I should have told him. I was going to, but I didn't know how. Or I wanted to ignore it. I don't know."

Clint considered slowly what to say to that, if anything, but then he saw the calculating tilt of Natasha's head.

"You really do love him, don't you?" She asked. Clint scrunched his face as to the need for such a question, but he could see that she was reading the situation as she often did.

"Yes." The answer was simple, but filled with conviction. "And I won't stop looking for him. I have to at least see him again. I have to make sure nobody else captures him."

Clint opened his mouth to reply on behalf of his friend, who he was sure wouldn't like to be hunted even with the best of intentions, but Natasha spoke again, taking them both off guard with her words. "Then I won't marry you."

Clint frowned. "Natasha—"

"I don't care what my father does. I've already written to our steward Philip to posit the question to my father of what would happen should I not marry Tony, and to ask if I would have his grace if I returned with someone else."

At this she looked at him and Clint couldn't fight the small smile that ghosted across his own lips, betraying the pleasure he felt at the idea. But he knew not to give it too much hope. "But what if he says no? You can't take that risk."

"He's right," Tony said and that seemed to startle Natasha just a little, but she quickly masked it.

"If he says no, I don't return." She shrugged. "I'm a Sidh. I'm versatile. I can escape and make a life anywhere. He'll never know. I'd rather that than stand at your side while you're miserable." She paused and then looked Tony over. Clint could tell she'd come to yet another conclusion about his character. "And we both know that you're stubborn. Now that you know about the curse, you'll fight it. And you'll never have children with me just to have an heir. You wouldn't do that to your child. Even if Bruce were here, something tells me you still wouldn't." Then her lips turned slightly up in what was almost a smile, but also a tiny bit of a smirk. "You're too much of a romantic to be practical."

Tony sighed. It was the kind of sigh that Clint could tell from firsthand experience meant Natasha was right. She'd seen right through him.

"And I wouldn't force you to marry me and be miserable along with me if that's not what you want," the prince conceded. "If you do decide you want to marry me, I will. If not, consider yourself free from the arrangement on my end. I'll even be the one to break it if you think it'll help with your father."

"It might," she said with a sly smile and then glanced at Clint. He had a good idea that maybe she'd already posited her question to her father in such a way just in case.

"If you'll excuse me," Tony said, bowing, and Clint watched him leave the room, guessing he needed time to be alone now that it seemed clear Bruce was intentionally staying away.

When they were alone again, Clint looked at Natasha. She wore a coy smile and glanced down at the empty space beside her as if inviting him to join her.

"Am I the other person you asked your steward about?" He asked as he crossed the room to accept her invitation.

"Only if you want to be."

"I do," he admitted without hesitation as he sat down. "But I also want you to be safe and happy."

"Then trust my choice," she responded firmly.

He wasn't sure if he was the kind of guy you made that drastic of a choice about, but he would try his hardest to be. "I feel sorry for Tony though. The curse—"

"Is already broken," she said before he could finish and he looked at her strangely.

"How?" Clint was good at keeping up with a lot of people, but Natasha was a good match that sometimes even he couldn't keep up with.

"He truly loves your friend. He fell in love with a man of magic. And something tells me Bruce is in love with him or else he wouldn't have saved him even in his monstrous form nor would he have run to keep from risking Tony's happiness. By all accounts, that's all the curse seemed to have required. Love."

Clint listened with wide eyes as she explained. It was true. Bruce had been a sorcerer's apprentice, was skilled in alchemy, and was a shape shifter which by some merit classed him now as a magical being (again, Clint made no pretense at understanding magic).

"So you think the curse is already broken." Clint eyed her carefully.

"Yes. Which is why I won't marry him. He can be happy now. If he's determined to find him, it might just work out for him."

"I hope so," Clint said after a long few seconds, considering the prospect. "Bruce certainly deserves it too." He then laughed as a notion struck him. "You know, when Tony asked me about Bruce the night we made the switch, I told him it didn't matter because he would never likely meet him. I mean, really, it shouldn't have happened. I also told him to stay in my tent or in town. So of course not only did he completely ignore me, but of all the people for him to stumble across it would then be Bruce." He shook his head in amusement.

"Maybe there's something to be said about true love after all."

Clint smiled and inclined his head in her direction. "Maybe," he agreed before capturing her lips with his own.

****~ & ~**  
**

King Anthony.

It would take some getting used to. He didn't feel any different than he had when he'd woken up that morning still referred to as prince. In fact, it had occurred to him just that morning that, by all rights, he had been king already if not by title - since there was a law that had prevented his taking the throne during the mourning period for his father. It was a superfluous period where he still had power, but Parliament could petition against his taking the throne until he was more ready. Really, his first business as 'official' king would be to do away with such a weird law, or at least in the cases of only one heir being present. Maybe if he'd had a sibling better-suited to the job that would be different.

Tony only realized his mind was wandering yet again when Lady Virginia approached him to pay her respects to him. Another thing he would do away with was this ridiculous pageantry. He didn't enjoy sitting on his throne as one person after another of his guests were induced to wish him a long and prosperous rule. It was boring and the reason his mind kept wandering.

"Princess Natasha tells me you've called off your engagement," she said with a curt smile as she curtsied low.

"We did," he answered. "I guess that makes you next in line for the job," he offered casually, knowing she would understand it was only a joke.

She shook her head. "She also had the craziest notion you've already found someone else you'd rather marry instead." She looked at him with a teasing expression. He could tell from the heat on his cheeks that he suddenly appeared sheepish at the accusation. "Aha. So it's true. You finally found your heart? I'm so happy for you, Tony. I, uh, I mean-"

He smiled softly at her attempts to remain diplomatic. "I'm king now and I mean to change things around here whether Steven likes it or not. So, it's definitely Tony to you."

She smiled. "May you have a long and prosperous rule, King Tony." She then curtsied again, though not as deeply, and moved along.

His smile fell slightly.

_Long and prosperous and alone._

Now all of his thoughts turned once again to Bruce. Forget changing silly laws. His first business as king would be to issue an edict and reward to find him.

He nodded absently once more to his many well-wishers as Bruce filled his mind. Bruce with his unassuming gentility. Bruce with his wilder incarnation that had wanted to protect him. Bruce with his errant curls and broad hands and low voice and clever mind. Bruce with his beautiful eyes that had lit up over a simple gift. He could see it all perfectly clear as if he were right there in front of him. Which is perhaps why it took a moment for him to realize that he _was_ right there in front of him.

Tony's eyes widened and he stood quickly to his feet. Bruce was standing at the end of the long hall that led to the throne, awaiting his turn to pay his dues. Steven held him back, as he'd been doing with all of the guests so that each one could have private audience with the new king, none the wiser that he held back the one man his king had been seeking.

Tony nodded to the duke that stood directly in front of him, wishing him well, and then without wasting another moment began to move towards Bruce. Although he looked befuddled, Steven let Bruce pass and soon they were moving at a brisk pace toward one another.

Tony didn't care about the murmurs that followed as he immediately enclosed his arms about Bruce and held him close. He only cared that he could hold him in the way he hadn't been able to before. It was perfect. It was right. He knew it would be. He was almost afraid he was dreaming again, but none of those dreams had felt this real.

"I thought I would never see you again," he whispered as they still held each other.

"That was the plan," Bruce admitted. "You have the princess and… a reputation apparently if the townspeople are to be believed. I thought maybe I was just…" He didn't finish, but he didn't need to for Tony to understand his reservations.

" _Had_ the princess," Tony countered quickly. "It was arranged. Neither of us wanted it so we decided to the blazes with it. She fell for your archer friend actually. And wait," Tony pulled away just enough to look at him questioningly, "townspeople? You mean to tell me you've been here all along?"

Bruce offered him a sheepish nod and pulled away from the embrace completely. "I was going to leave. I told myself to. But… I couldn't." He shook his head. "I still wanted to be near you even though I wasn't going to let you find out. Then I opened your invitation..." His sentence trailed, but he looked up at him with earnest hope that thrilled Tony's heart.

Tony immediately looked down at Bruce's hands and took one into his own. There on one finger was the gold band that he had placed in the envelope along with the letter of invitation to his coronation – not an official invitation, but Tony had his princely seal on him at all times so it was still binding. Tony had placed the ring there in hopes that everything would work out as he'd promised and that Bruce would understand his wishes.

And now he was here! And he was wearing it! He could barely contain his happiness and he idly wondered if the curse had somehow been broken, but that was something he could consider at another time. At the moment, there was only him and Bruce.

"Then you'll have me?" Tony squeezed that hand and earnestly searched Bruce's eyes.

"Do..." There was a slight moment of hesitance. "Are you sure you really want me? I could still be dangerous."

"We both know that's not true," Tony responded with a broad smile, knowing Bruce's answer was already yes and that he was just making sure _he_ wasn't the one dreaming. "And even if it was, I'd still take my chances. That's just how it has to be, Bruce." Tony looked at him long and intently. " _I love you_."

The most genuine, wide smile that Tony had yet to see on the other man spread across Bruce's face. "That's good." He nodded, eyes sparkling again and dancing with happiness that Tony knew matched his own. "Because I love you too, your majesty."

Tony couldn't fight the wide smile that spread across his own face as he filled the space between them once more. "Call me Tony," he corrected playfully.

Tony kissed his true love and knew in his heart the curse had indeed been broken. He would be able to live happily ever after with Bruce.

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hopefully that wasn't...terrible. It's been a million years since I've done an actual fairytale au rather than just working in an established fairytale fandom. I know I butchered magical elements into the ground by changing them/manipulating their rules to fit the story. And left things intentionally ambiguous (like Abraham's work that led to the banishment of magic or Loki's involvement/motives). I will say that the book that Bruce was given was supposed to be of Merlin's work, but I assumed that was probably obvious.


End file.
